Salvation
by Nyx-Trace
Summary: Neo and Smith wake up in the train staton with no explanation. Why were they brought back? What is their purpose? PostRevolutions, eventual NeoSmith slash.
1. Chapter 1

"Oh…there is one more thing."

The Architect stopped abruptly, and turned around slowly. "What now?" he asked, with just the slightest hint of exasperation on the edge of his voice.

"I want Neo and Smith back. Trinity too, if you can manage it. I'm sure you have a backup of Smith, and Neo and Trinity can be revived long enough to get the information we need-"

He held up a hand to stop her.

"My dear Oracle, _why_, pray tell, would I do such a thing? Smith is a virus, if you recall, and would overrun the Matrix again, and this time there would be no savior with the ability to stop him. And as for Neo, well, I, personally, have had enough of former Ones turned into programs. And most importantly, they have no purpose. What is the point?"

The Oracle listened quietly to his response. She did not answer him immediately, instead taking a cigarette and light from her purse and putting it to her mouth, deliberately trying to annoy him. The Architect sniffed, an expression of disgust on his face.

She sighed. "They will have purpose. I see it. They are the only ones strong enough to fight what is coming, if they can stop fighting each other long enough. Besides, they will be very weak from all they have gone through."

He gazed at her appraisingly, carefully. She gazed right back, and he saw that there was no lie in her eyes. "Very well. But if anything goes wrong…you, the virus, the anomaly, and his lover will be deleted. And now, if you'll excuse me…" He walked away as fast as his feet would carry him, somehow still managing to seem dignified and purposeful.

The corner of the Oracle's mouth twitched. "Foolish man," she murmured.

Sati ran over, crying, "Oracle!" Seraph followed close behind, gliding gracefully over the grass.

The older woman hugged Sati close, smiling as she reassured her.

"Look, look!" Sati pointed to the sunrise, a beautiful golden orb rising in a sky splashed with pastel pinks and oranges.

"Oh, how beautiful," the Oracle said. "Did you do that?"

"For Neo," the little girl replied, nodding her head. "Will we ever see him again?"

"Soon," the elderly woman answered, her gentle smile turning to a concerned frown.

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He awoke slowly, rolling over and seeking his mate's warmth. He was immediately assaulted by waves of pain, attacking him on all sides. Through the agony, he dimly wondered where Trinity was. And then…he remembered. Oh Christ, he remembered everything. Trinity dying, the deal with the machines, letting Smith copy himself. But…wouldn't the machines have deleted Smith, and killed Neo in the process?

He opened his eyes, ignoring the fluorescent light that made the headache worse. He sat up and glanced around, and, a moment later, slumped back on to the ground, and shut his eyes tightly, wishing he had never opened them. He was in the goddamn train station. Again. Unable to resist the pull of exhaustion, he slipped back into unconsciousness.

Some time later, he awoke again. The pain had somewhat abated, so he opened his eyes, and sat up. He once more glanced around the station, and his eyes came to rest on a figure lying prone on the ground, one that hadn't been there before. Ignoring his aching, protesting muscles, Neo stood, and walked over to where the body lay. As he got closer, he recognized the man who was lying still on his side, chest rising and falling ever so slightly. Smith. The program looked different; his hair a few shades lighter, tumbling into his eyes rather than slicked back. The once impeccable suit was now torn, rumpled, and covered in dried mud. As Neo started, the eyes fluttered open. From the glassy look in the cerulean eyes, Neo knew that Smith was probably in a great deal of pain. As Smith's eyes focused, he recognized Neo, and growled, "You!"

"Yeah, me," Neo said tiredly. "Don't bother attacking me again. Haven't you learned by now that it gets us nowhere?"

Smith's only response was another growl, then a moan of pain as he attempted to stand.

Knowing that it would only rile the virus up, but unable to resist, Neo said, "From the looks of it, I think it would be pretty damn painful for you to stand, let alone hit me."

Smith just closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

After that, neither of them spoke. They just sat at opposite ends of the station, lost in their own thoughts.

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Neo just sat there, thinking for hours on end. "Why am I not dead?" he soliloquized. "I knew what would happen when I gave in to Smith. Why didn't the machines delete him and kill me? Christ, this is getting me nowhere. I don't know, and it's a definite possibility that I never will. We could be here forever…"

He found himself missing Trinity. She had always been there for him, always loved him, even though she could never completely understand him. She was always so strong, so tough…except for when they were alone. He had been lucky enough to discover the side of her that was gentle, loving…

Neo felt tears sting his eyes, and let them come, not caring that he was in the presence of his most hated enemy. He didn't give a fucking shit about the more immediate problems. He missed her.

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Silence. Such a potent thing.

Odd as it sounds, silence speaks. Silence was his friend, his only friend, whispering words of comfort and promise in his ear, holding him in its embrace as he stared into the abyss. He considered the thought somewhat sentimental, but true, nevertheless.

For Smith, there was anguish and solace in silence. Agony and ecstasy, love and hate, and so many other emotions that a machine shouldn't have the ability to feel. Silence was an oxymoron in itself, a paradox.

He knew a so-called "Resistance rebel" would laugh hysterically if they heard a program speak thus, especially him, Smith, former agent and virus. "Of course," they would insist loudly, "Machines cannot feel, right?"

Wrong. Dead wrong. Contrary to popular belief, Smith and his fellow machines had feelings, thoughts, dreams, hopes, fears. After all, they were created in the image of man, were they not?

His dream, his hope, his fear was to purge the matrix of humanity, rid it of the disgusting smell. Rid it of the humans who could not even keep peace among themselves, let alone with the machines who served them so faithfully.

So he could be free again.

It seemed so foolish now that he had been afraid of silence. He had used that foolish earpiece to surround himself with the inane and irrelevant chatter of Jones, Brown, and the Mainframe just to escape silence's powerful grip. But he eventually realized the hopelessness and futility of trying to escape. It was inevitable. There was no running from it.

After all, what choice did he have when his only company was the viruses masquerading as "humans"?

Why should he pretend to hate quiet, just because the rest of the world, machines and humans, fear and loathe it? He had met no one who had felt and loved the power of silence, no one who had heard its voice.

His well-trained ears heard the sound of Mr. Anderson beginning to cry. He should have known the great and powerful One would find yet another way to aggravate him.

"Stop _whimpering_, you pathetic weakling."

Neo was caught off guard, too emotional and tired to think of a clever reply. He simply shrugged, and the tears continued to roll down his cheeks.

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After another eternity, they heard the sound of an approaching train. He dried his face, somehow managing to look calm, poised, and ready, albeit with slightly red eyes. Smith didn't move, not caring who was on their way to rescue the precious savior. He fully expected to be deleted. He was ready for it. Eternal silence? What more could he want?

As the train came to a halt, the doors opened. Out stepped an elderly black lady that Smith recognized as the Oracle. Neo visibly relaxed, knowing that he was safe and would be receiving answers soon.

"Hello boys," she said, with an exhausted but still enigmatic smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**To all of you still with this story, thank you. I'm terrible with updates, so thanks for hanging in there. I do have a vague idea of where this story is heading, but I'm mostly taking it as it comes. **

**Disclaimer: Purely for my own enjoyment. Don't sue me. It belongs to Warner Brothers, Wachowskis, etc. **

"Come to save your savior?" Smith asked. There was no bite in the question, only a sort of weary acceptance. He was tired, so tired…He didn't want to be an agent, didn't want to be a virus, didn't want to be an exile. Quite simply, he was done.

Neo stared at him, and realized that Smith had finally snapped. If he could not dredge up the energy to be sarcastic and bitter…Well, besides the fact that hell had frozen over, Smith had a glassy look in his eye that Neo had once heard called "the thousand mile stare". It was the stare of a man who had seen too much destruction of life. It was the stare of a man who was just a ghost of his former self. It was the stare a broken soldier adapts, when he would look through someone instead of at them, lost in a world he no longer understood.

The Trainman stepped off the train after the Oracle, breaking into Neo's reverie. He ordered roughly, "Get on, I'm already late."

The Oracle glared at him sharply, and he quailed and looked away. She turned to Neo, who was gazing at her with an expectant expression on his face. "We have to get him on the train," she said quietly.

He opened his mouth, obviously about to start asking a question. She smiled inwardly. She had always liked that about him. Even after he was unplugged, he continued to ask all of the right questions. "Why---" he began. The Oracle cut him off, saying quietly but urgently, "There's no time, Neo. You have to trust me."

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, and then nodded. "Get on the train, Smith." Smith didn't move, didn't even seem to hear. Neo sighed, pulled the ex-agent to his feet, slung Smith's arm around his own shoulders, and half-dragged, half-carried Smith onto the train. He shot the Oracle a look that said plainly, "There better be one _damn_ good explanation from this," and got onto the train. She grinned, a Cheshire cat smile, as she and the Trainman followed suit.

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Neo followed the Oracle into her apartment, Smith still leaning heavily on him. The program seemed unaware of his surroundings, and was a dead weight in Neo's arms, neither struggling, nor making any conscious effort to move. Neo sighed with relief as he none-too-gently pushed the other man down onto the couch.

Sati came out of the kitchen, and cried, "Neo!" She ran into his arms, and Neo smiled sadly as he hugged her tightly.

"I'm glad you're alive," she said sweetly. "The Oracle said you would be."

Smith looked on with a detached, uncommunicative expression on his face.

As Neo let go of Sati, the Oracle said to her, "Sati, dear, why don't you go find Seraph? It's time for your lessons."

Sati smiled brightly. "Okay!" Halfway out the door, she paused and said seriously, "Don't let her confuse you too much, Neo. She's so good at that," and skipped merrily into the next room.

The Oracle chucked. "Well, come on Neo. I'm surprised you haven't spontaneously combusted with curiosity by now. Smith, wait here. Make yourself at home. "

As he followed the Oracle into the kitchen, Neo realized how bizarre it was that the Oracle was telling Smith to get comfortable mere hours after she had been copied into one of his clones. He walked into the kitchen, and collapsed into a chair without even waiting for the Oracle's offer of a seat. The Oracle smiled slightly, sat down, and lit a cigarette. "Well, go ahead. Ask away," she said resignedly.

Neo took a deep breath and began. "What happened to Morpheus and the others? Is the war over? How am I alive? _Why_ am I alive? Why is Smith still here when I supposedly died to delete him? How the hell did we end up in the train station? "

She grinned and repeated her words from a few days ago. "Let's get the obvious stuff out of the way. Yes, the war is over. And…well, you're not gonna like it, but technically you're not alive. You're a program, now. We were able to revive your brain long enough to get the information we needed."

She saw the hope light his eyes, and shook her head. "We did all we could for Trinity, but she'd been gone too long. Not that it really matters, but since you wanted to know, all new programs are sent to the train station by default when they are created."

She stubbed out her cigarette, lit another, and waited. Neo shut his emotions away until they could be dealt with at a more appropriate time, his mind working quickly. "You still haven't answered two of my questions," he said quietly. "_Why_ Why am I here, why did the machines go to all that trouble to bring back a coppertop? And more importantly, why is _Smith_ here? If I recall correctly, he killed thousands of people while an agent, and cloned the rest during his career as a virus. _Why?_"

The Oracle's face lost all traces of humor and mysterious smiles. "You have to trust me, Neo. Smith is no longer a danger to humans or programs. And he is much more than an agent or a virus." Seeing Neo's intrigued expression, she went on, "It ain't my story to tell, but maybe he'll tell you someday. As to your first question---" here she nodded at the plaque above the doorway "---you'll know when it's time."

Neo sighed and nodded, knowing he wasn't likely to get anything more from the ever-enigmatic, infuriating Oracle.

"You and Smith will be living in an apartment together. Seraph will give you the keys. Oh, and there's a dojo nearby if you and Smith ever feel the need to beat the shit out of each other," she said matter-of-factly. "Not that I expect you'll have the restraint to wait till you get there," she added with a mock sigh. "Go ahead and send Smith in here, would you please? Just tell him I want to talk to him. He won't be a problem."

Neo raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He nodded and walked out of the kitchen.

After he left the room, the Oracle whispered, "Take care of him, Neo. You'll understand with time."

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Neo sat on the purple couch outside the kitchen, waiting. After what seemed like an eternity (but was really only about half an hour) Smith walked out of the kitchen, looking shell-shocked and tired. The Oracle followed him out, wiped her hands on her apron, and smiled. "Well, boys, try not to kill each other," she joked, but with a hint of iron in her voice. "After all, it would be such a waste of all the trouble the Architect went through to recreate you both. It would be a bother to do it all over again."

Seraph led them through a door Neo had never noticed before, and he once again found himself in the never-ending hallway of glowing white and hospital green, with Smith (who was finally able to stand on his own) and Seraph. Seraph kept shooting Smith discreet glances full of curiosity and a hint of something Neo could not identify. He handed Neo three keys. "One for your apartment, one for the dojo, and one for us. We're next-door-neighbors, so to speak." Neo thanked him and took the keys. Seraph bowed slightly and returned to Sati and the Oracle.

"Well, what the hell did she tell you?" Neo demanded.

Smith just looked away.

Neo leaned back against the wall and sighed. The Oracle and Smith had talked for so long, and he was burning with curiosity. He knew better than to ask anyone about a conversation with the Oracle, but a mixture of resentment and nosiness had persuaded him to ask. But Smith remained stoic and silent, and Neo gave up.

He took one of the keys, inserted it into the lock, twisted, and pushed. As he saw what was behind the door, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up in déjà vu.

After all he had been through, after all he had seen, done—the last place he had expected to end up was his old copper-top era apartment.

Everything was the same. Books, papers, keyboards, computers…all unchanged.

Smith looked over at him. "What now, Mr. Anderson?"

"Well, you could stop calling me that," he replied, annoyed. "It's common sense, since whenever you call me that one or both of us ends up dead or deleted."

"Whatever you want, _Neo_," Smith drawled, somehow managing to make the name sound worse than the condescending "Mr. Anderson."

Seeing that Smith was regaining some of his former snarky evil composure, Neo gave up. "I'm going out for a walk," he said dejectedly. "I need some air. Don't follow me."

He walked out of the apartment, into the Matrix.


	3. Note to Readers

Note to Readers:

I've been seeing a lot of reviews and bookmarks for this story lately, and while I do appreciate everyone's support and positive reviews, I've neither the time nor the inclination to continue this story right now. However, if someone out there is interested in continuing the story, you can email me at and I'd be happy to chat with you about it.

Thanks again for your encouragement!


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